


Restless Sleeper

by LupaDracolis



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Family, Fluff, Gen, Parents & Children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-19
Updated: 2012-05-19
Packaged: 2017-11-05 15:30:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/408040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LupaDracolis/pseuds/LupaDracolis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is something very precious in the house, where England sleeps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restless Sleeper

England is a restless sleeper.

There’s something in this house, you see, something very precious. And he doesn’t seem able to prevent himself going to check up on it every few hours, as if to make sure it’s still there.

It doesn’t happen all that regularly – sometimes he can go two days in a row without waking once. Sometimes he checks seven times in the same night.

On a night somewhere between the two, where it’s close to the witching hour and he’s only checked once since first blowing out the candle, he wakes. Rising from his bed, he contemplates lighting a match, before deciding that the faint moonlight is really all he needs. Rising, he walks downstairs, going routinely around to all the doors, double-checking that they’re locked. He’s putting it off. Knows he shouldn’t need to do this so often. Tells himself he’s going to go straight back to bed, now, after having checked the last door.

Still, he finds himself going straight past his own bedroom door, heading for another, further down the corridor. He eases it open, quietly, not wishing to disturb the precious thing inside. Looks in.

Bright blue eyes are staring up at him, from under sleep-tousled blond hair. Arms are raised in greeting, and he walks quickly over, lifting his most precious thing, and cradling it in his arms. His voice is gentle when he speaks.

“Hello, lad.” The response given is a yawn, and a tired smile. “Can’t sleep?” A shake of the head. He smiles gently down, holding the boy closer to his chest as he leaves the room, heading back to his own. He lies down on the bed, boy next to him, but he crawls up onto his chest, curling up here. The boy is light, so it isn’t a problem.

And, with America fast asleep and breathing softly on his chest, England doesn’t wake again until the morning.


End file.
